


How Will I Know?

by stan_of_many



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Godfather Harry, Harry Potter - Freeform, Harry being a good godfather, Harry's in over his head, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Post-Canon, Relationship Advice, Short & Sweet, Sweet, Teen Angst, harry and teddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27410071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stan_of_many/pseuds/stan_of_many
Summary: Teddy Lupin is hurting and Harry can relate a little too well, but can also give some good advice.
Kudos: 14





	How Will I Know?

**Author's Note:**

> For my sister who hasn't found a Harry Potter fanfic that pleased her yet. I hope you like this one ;)

“Quidditch practice going well?” The awkward silence had been the longest one yet as Harry attempted to continue the dying conversation with his godson. The teen nodded absently,

“Yeah.” Silence fell once again and Harry scrambled to stave it off. 

“Er- we caught the dementor. That’s why I was up here you know.” 

“That’s good.” The remark was very unenthusiastic, a far cry from the normally bubbly Teddy Lupin. His hair was limp and brown, the same color as his father’s instead of its normal bright and often changing hues. Something was wrong, Harry could tell—and Teddy wasn’t trying to hide it. The problem was that Harry had no idea how on earth to ask him about it. 

“Are you—are you going to drink your butterbeer?” He gestured to the nearly untouched mug which Teddy gazed at almost mournfully. 

“I always thought it was strange not to like butterbeer.” Harry didn’t quite follow the train of thought that led to the comment,

“Sorry, who doesn’t like butterbeer?” Teddy looked up for the first time, 

“Lessy didn’t like it.” 

“Ah.” Harry searched his brain to remember who Lessy was. He had no idea. “Who’s Lessy?” Teddy’s expression told him it was the wrong question to ask. Brilliant.

“Only my girlfriend, Harry!” Oh. Now that he mentioned it Harry did remember Teddy excitedly talking about someone around Christmas time and Lessy was quite possibly the name mentioned. Teddy’s expression had morphed from offended back to melancholy, “or rather, my ex-girlfriend.” 

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took an extra-long sip of butterbeer. If the Cho disaster had taught him anything it was that he was the last person who could give Teddy good advice on anything to do with girls. He scrambled for a response. What would Ginny say? Or Hermione? Or even Ron? 

Ron would probably make a joke and soon have Teddy laughing but Harry couldn’t think of a joke. Hermione would hug the boy for a minute or so, then change the subject and help him focus on something else, but the table was in the way and Harry wasn’t sure if a hug from him would be quite the same. 

But Ginny, she would look at him—really look at him, and ask him, “what happened?” And then she would listen—really listen, to everything he had to say. Harry set down his mug, 

“Do you wanna—tell me what happened, Teddy?” He managed. He was relieved as the boy seemed to focus on him for the first time. 

“Well, we have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor this year which I wasn’t looking forward to because-no offense Harry-sometimes the Gryffindors put a little too much into their spells and when you pair up it’s—well anyway...” Teddy gave a short laugh, “we got paired up and we talked a little bit and when she learned I was a metamorphmagus she was really excited about it and asked me to do a bunch of stuff like people usually do. I had a lot of fun and we kinda kept pairing up in class and then I asked her out after a while.” He gave a half-smile, “it was great Harry. She was so fun. I thought maybe...well—but then I noticed how she kept asking me to look like other people when we went out, change my nose or my hair or make a sharper jawline, or mimic someone else entirely. It was fun at first but sometimes I kinda didn’t want to look like them. She liked changing my face especially, she never really let me stay normal So then I said no. She got really angry. She said—“ The teen ducked his head and took a long sip from his mug, his chest heaving slightly, “she said there wasn’t a point dating me. I guess she liked how I could look. She didn’t like me.” 

Harry saw a few streaks of gray color his godson’s hair as the teen hunched over his mug. Teddy was still young enough that strong emotion could come out unexpectedly in the form of small color changes to his hair and Harry fancied himself somewhat proficient in reading what the colors meant. Gray wasn’t a good one. 

A memory flew unbidden into his mind, his third year at Hogwarts. Overhearing a Hufflepuff boy that he had become friendly with talking to one of his mates,

_“...she has to like me now that I’m friends with Harry Potter.” The boy's friend nodded,_

_“I think it’s pretty cool myself, mate. Is Harry Potter nice?” The boy brushed past the question quickly,_

_“Oh nice enough I suppose, but the point is, Richie, you do think that she’ll notice me now, right?”_

It had hurt. Quite a bit more than was reasonable, Harry had told himself in his bed that night, it was silly that it stung so much. But the words had stayed for weeks, undermining every smile and friendly word.

Harry picked up his wand absently, balancing it in his hands as he observed his godson. 

“You know Teddy...there were a lot of people—still are a lot of people—who want to be friends with 'The Famous Harry Potter', 'The Boy Who Lived, the 'Wizard-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord', the 'Chosen One'....but they don’t care much for Harry.” The teen gave a wry smile,

“I know what you mean.” 

Harry continued fiddling with his wand as he struggled to put his thoughts into words,

“I guess—I mean I guess what I’m trying to say, mate, is that there’s always going to be those people. But not everyone is like that, you know. You just got to find them, the people who care about Teddy Lupin. And then all the rest of the people won’t matter as much. So don’t...you know, don’t give up, Teddy.” 

Teddy’s face was screwed up doubtfully but Harry noticed several of the gray streaks receding into the brown. 

“But how will I know, Harry?” Teddy’s eyes were pleading. Harry smiled, remembering the red-haired boy with the corned beef sandwiches on the Hogwarts express and the know-it-all-girl who fought a troll by his side in the girls' toilet. 

“You won’t always, mate. But sometimes you will.” 

Teddy considered his words gravely. 

Harry felt the conversation needed a lighter turn and leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ll give you a real tip, Ted, ever get a friend dragged to the headmistress for something you did? That’s the real test of fire, see if they tattle or not.” The boy laughed, a few streaks of pink shooting through his hair,

“Well since you mention it, Victóre did get caught throwing food at Durgan at supper last week and somehow didn’t happen to mention that her potatoes were untouched and mine were strangely missing...”


End file.
